


Home Visit

by Spoon888



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Loneliness, M/M, Optimus Needs A New Apartment, Post War AU, Starscream needs a hug, Sticky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 23:16:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20665433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: It's Post War Cybertron and Starscream dedicates an afternoon to finding and breaking into Optimus Prime's apartment because of ...reasons





	Home Visit

**Author's Note:**

> Another little thank you fic!

The Prime's home would have been an official residence once upon a time, before the civil war resulted in a great deal of the opulent penthouses the upper echelons had picked out for themselves getting blown to smithereens in Decepticon strikes.

If Starscream's memory banks served him well, he was quite sure Sentinel Prime's Iaconian residence had been one of his own successful targets.

So he really had no one to blame but himself that Optimus Prime lived such a great distance outside the city centre, in an undisclosed, subtle location the vast majority of the planet had no idea about. Starscream wasn't about to ask the peons on Prime's official staff for directions, so he abused his high level security clearance to get the address straight from the public records.

As he marched down the narrow, unassuming street to the location of Prime's apartment building, he couldn't help but start to wonder if where he was being sent was some sort of joke. The street was oil stained and the road's safety lights flickered, and the smell of gas lingered in the air. He was not in a nice neighbourhood. Certainly not somewhere a Prime would deign to stay.

Perhaps the records had displayed a false address to confuse assassins? It was the only explanation he could think of when he came to stand before a pre-war, rust-browned twenty story building.

"You've got to be kidding." He muttered, glancing up and down the street to be sure no one recognised him.

With a snarl of frustration -and a promise to himself to exile whoever was in charge of public records should this be the wrong address- Starscream tentatively cracked open the control panel next to the apartment listings and hot-wired the door lock.

As he worked, he noticed that an 'Orion Pax' was listed as the resident of the fifteenth floor apartment. Something else to throw off attackers, perhaps?

Starscream entered the building. It smelt like stale oil and rust. Like someone might have _died_ in here _before_ the war and no one had ever bothered to come back and clean it up. There was an elevator, but Starscream neither trusted it's safety or the hygiene of the buttons, so he climbed the stairs instead, keeping his arms close to his sides so he didn't accidentally brush a diseased hand rail or a wall.

He reached the fifteen floor and the door to the apartment was so far the only clean thing Starscream had seen since he'd entered the building. He pressed the door comm and waited, shifting uncomfortably, trying hard not to think about _what_ it was on the floor that was causing his pedes to stick.

He pressed the comm again.

"Prime!?" He yelled, and banged his fist against the heavy door.

No answer.

Feeling unclean simply standing in the air, Starscream wasted no time hot wiring a second lock. It was for his own health, he reasoned to himself, sparking wires together. Prime wouldn't want him catching a rust infection or a virus any more than he himself did.

He let himself in, and breathed a sigh of relief at the modest but kept apartment before him. The decor was dark and outdated, and _cheap_ as scrap metal, and in ways of possession nothing seemed to scream 'Prime' _or_ 'Optimus'. With a resentful grumble at having come all this way only to find what looked like a false lead, Starscream decided he might as well do some exploring before braving the horror of the staircase and lobby again.

Bearing in mind there wasn't much _to_ explore.

The apartment was so small that having _any_ walls would take up too much room. It was open plan. The main living space was not unlike what quarters on a warship were like- only... smaller. There was a modest single berth slab with a single pillow, and a sofa set at it's end. There was one energon storage cabinet and a cluttered desk, with a stool. Not a chair. A _stool_.

Starscream couldn't have fit his walk-in-wardrobe into it.

He tutted and opened a door next to the berth, finding a tiny box of a wash room. There was a drain in the floor and a single shower head. Curious, he turned the squeaky taps, and a pathetic trickle of solvent came down. He held out a hand to catch it, scowling.

It took him back to the Pit his own life had been before the war, after the... unpleasantness of leaving the science academy and having to make do.

He rubbed the trickle of solvent between his hands, using it to rid them of residual griminess from outside of the apartment-

-When the click of the door opening caught his attention.

With a flare of panic he backed himself out of the wash room, catching his wings against the narrow doorway and wincing as he struggled to online his null-ways and lift them up. He stumbled back, flailing, and walked sideways, straight into Optimus Prime's broad windshield.

"Oof!"

They came together with a _clink_, Starscream's nose banging against Optimus's bulletproof glass. He reared back, blinking and covering his nose, staring at the face-shaped smudge he'd left on Prime's flawless finish.

"Starscream?" Prime's baritone announced. There was a whir of a weapon disarming, and two firm hands landed on Starscream's shoulder to steady him. "What on Cybertron-?"

"You live _here_?!" Was the only thing Starscream could think to shriek, delicate nose still cupped in his hands.

"Did you break into my apartment?" Optimus growled, ignoring his question.

"This is a cesspit, Prime!" Starscream subtly avoided Prime's line of questioning too, making his voice the loudest so he couldn't be spoken over. "You can't _live_ here."

"This was my home before the war." Prime's optics narrowed above his face mask. Like he had taken offence- like he could possibly be house-proud over _this_.

"You realise you're not a lowly dock worker anymore, don't you?" Starscream sneered, stepping around Prime to get out of his shadow. Unfortunately, in such a small apartment, there wasn't really anywhere else to go.

"You're allowed to move." He ended up sitting himself on the arm of the sofa, crossing one leg over the other loftily. "At any rate, you should be closer to the city. Closer to the action."

"I was rather hoping to keep my work separate from my personal life." Optimus cast him a resentful look.

Starscream's chest tightened at the hint that he should have existed in the former category for Prime. Rude. 

"How quaint." He smiled stiffly. "But impossible. You're the Prime. You can no more take a personal day than I can."

"Is that why you're here then?" Prime asked, crossing the tiny apartment in one smooth step and shutting the wash room door Starscream had left open. "Business?"

Starscream couldn't hide the defensive locking of his armour when he stiffened in surprise at the question. He scrambled for an excuse. Why _had_ he come here? Why had he left work and spent the better part of his afternoon hunting down Prime's private residence? To unsettle the Prime? To go through his personal affects and dig up dirt on the Autobots saintly untouchable figurehead?

"Starscream?" Prime pressed, coming to stand before him again.

He was tall, and though his shoulders didn't have the same impressive breadth as a certain _other_ faction leader's did, his stoic but concerned frown, the power stance, and the exasperated call of his name... they were all the same.

Starscream felt nostalgic, tired, overwhelmed, and overworked. And at times like this, nothing felt better than shirking his duties and seeking out the company of someone he really should be steering clear of.

He was... lonely.

He stared up at Prime, hoping the expressive face that usually betrayed him could, for once, serve an advantage.

Something in Optimus's gaze softened.

Prime lifted a hand to his face. His blunt digits ghosted the side of his helm and a thumb swiped softly across the arch of his cheek. "You look tired." His deep commanding voice mellowed into a gentle murmur.

Starscream tilted his head into his touch. Desperate for it, but reluctant to let it show. "That's not usually something someone says as a compliment."

"It was a concerned observation." Prime explained, optics a swirling vibrant cerulean. Starscream felt mesmerised by them, and leaned forward a little, uncrossing his legs. "I worry about you."

"Me?" Starscream laughed. "Worry about your own mechs."

"More than Autobots alone qualify as 'my' mechs."

"You big Autobot sap." Starscream slapped Optimus's hand away before Prime's digits could register the increase in temperature across his face plates as he flushed. "I'm not here for comfort."

"Then what are you here for?" Optimus issued challengingly.

Primus, did he have to spell it out?!

Starscream grabbed one of Optimus's stupid windshield wipers to yank him down for a kiss. There was a face mask in the way though. He dug claws into the edge of the mask to prise it away. Prime grunted, blue optics wincing, and took his wrist in a grip none too light to pull his talons away before letting the mask shoot back automatically.

"You're being rather forward." He grunted.

Starscream's optics wanted to roll into the back of his head. "You _think_?"

Prime growled wordlessly and slapped his hands to the outsides of Starscream's thighs with a clap of metal on metal. Starscream's gasp caught in his vocaliser when he was yanked forward and tipped back in one rough movement, leaving him draped at an angle over the sofa's armrest, his back curved and his head, shoulders, and wings pressing into the plush cushions.

Prime grabbed his aft next and hitched him up, working his wide hips between Starscream's clumsily splayed thighs. "Better?" He smirked, hitching one of Starscream's legs up over his hip.

Starscream's spark trilled at being permitted to see a more playful side of the Prime. He let his arms drop to the sofa over his head, stretching himself out luxuriously, hoping to tempt him further.

"Much better." He purred. And let his panel snap away.

Optimus's optics widened at the sharp noise, his hips pressing closer on instinct. Starscream felt the harsh edges and hard armour of his codpiece against his softening mesh folds and rocked his hips up into the sensation. Optimus's gaze flickered, and his own codpiece began to retract with a _snk_ and hiss of releasing pressure. A spike slipped against the gathering lubricant between his folds. Starscream dug his claws into the cushions, listening to the rip of fabric as he tore them to shreds. Prime's fingers tightened and buckled the armour of his hips when the tip of his spike found it's way between plush pleats of mesh.

With one sure sweeping plunge he was inside, and Starscream arched so high off the sofa only his helm still touched it.

Prime pushed until he was hilt deep, hips flush to Starscream's aft. He splayed a hand over Starscream's lower chassis, fingers and palm big enough to stretch across the breadth of his narrow waist. He stroked his belly, relishing the smoothness of his abdomen, before moving up and groping at the swell of his cockpit.

Starscream released his death grip on the cushions to grab his wandering hand and move it higher still, guiding it to his left turbine. "Frag me."

Prime obliged, hips rolling back to press in with another plunging thrust, driving into him. He was rougher than Starscream would have expected of an Autobot, of _him_, and it took him back to a time before. With a rougher partner. Now gone.

His spark filled with emotion, and overwhelmed in too many senses, Starscream sobbed out a gasp.

Prime descended on him, strong arms slipping under his frame in a tight embrace. Thrusts became lazy rocks as they writhed together, and Starscream shuttered his optics, trying to regain control. He felt a warm mouth at his audial, whispering nonsense. He turned his head and met Prime's mouth. They kissed, the haste of before forgotten as things seems to slow and shrink, until it was just them, intertwined on the sofa.

Slowly, Prime began to rise, lifting him with him. Starscream found himself situated back on the armrest, then arms slipped under his thighs and hitched him up. He brought his legs up and locked them around Prime's waist. Their kiss became hurried and frantic once again. Until Starscream felt the world turn and tip, and his wings hit a narrow berth slab.

The drop and impact pushed Optimus deeper inside, and he howled when Optimus's spike hit his ceiling node, shrill vocaliser shaking the windows, claws cutting into even Optimus's thick armour plating.

Optimus snarled at the prick of pain and it became rough again, but this time Starscream was prepared for it, rolling into it, riding it, taking his pleasure as much as Prime was taking his. His panting breaths became a babble of 'yes's and 'more's. Optimus obliged, pinning him down with a hand braced against his wing and driving into him.

Starscream felt a growl grow in Optimus's engines, rumbling through his chest as armour tightened in preparation for a finish. Starscream tightened his legs around his waist, mewling weakly between kisses, his valve cycling down and clenching as best it could on the jackhammering pace. With a sudden burst of speed, Optimus chased down his overload, shunting Starscream across his berth with the force of it.

He overloaded, and Starscream shuttered his optics to focus as much of his processing power on the sensation of it. From the hot air pumping out of Prime's vents to the hitches of his vocaliser when he began to spill inside him. Starscream stoked the back of his neck in encouragement, turning his head to the side to make room for Optimus to bury his face into the side of his neck.

A hand stroked across his wing fondly, then with a great sigh, Optimus got his arms under him and began to push himself up.

Starscream tightened his legs around his waist and held.

A muffled huff of breath. "Starscream."

Starscream stubbornly dug his claws in. He felt Prime twitch at the sensation. "Where do you think you're going?" He muttered dangerously.

He was ready for a fight, but Prime only seemed to relax in his arms, settling over him again. He was heavy, but Starscream didn't mind, nuzzling up against the larger mech like he was a clunky, sharp edged blanket.

"I wasn't leaving." Optimus reassured Starscream.

Starscream snorted, relaxing his hold just enough to make himself comfortable.

"Something's wrong." Optimus murmured in his audial, lips brushing the warm metal. Starscream wished he would kiss him again, but he supposed affection would have to be something they built upon with time.

He ignored the unidentifiable ache in his chest, tucking his head under Optimus's strong chin. "No. Everything is fine. I ...am fine."

Optimus's arms tightened around him, a big hand stroked up and down his back, between his wings. "I've got you." He promised.

Starscream buried his face in Optimus's neck, and forced himself to believe that.


End file.
